


The Lie

by ElvaDeath



Series: The World of Asano Gakushuu [5]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Asano Gakuhou's A+ Parenting, Creepy kid Gakushuu, Five Virtuosos - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insanity, M/M, Ren and Gakushuu are childhood friends, Sakakibara Ren is a Good Friend, Unrequited Crush, try to convince me otherwise, we need more tags for this boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25106860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvaDeath/pseuds/ElvaDeath
Summary: Asano isn’t insane. Ren knows this, despite what other people might think. It’s only The Lie.“If I could play, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”- E.D.
Relationships: Asano Gakushuu & Sakakibara Ren, Asano Gakushuu/Sakakibara Ren
Series: The World of Asano Gakushuu [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657669
Comments: 3
Kudos: 116





	The Lie

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't tell, I'm on a temporary break from uploading. This is so I can write a shitload of stuff, and then when I come back, I can post more often with better stuff, and won't constantly be missing deadlines from my procrastination. I'll try to make this as short as possible, so please be patient!
> 
> The magical Gakushuu going to Hogwarts fanfic is currently in the making! I have a general plot, and the first few chapters written up, but any ideas or requests for it will be appreciated. Currently, we only have Gakushuu, Gakuhou, Ren, and Karma from Assassination Classroom in it, so if anyone would like any other characters to make appearances, please say so.
> 
> Anyway, enough blabbing. Enjoy!  
> \- E.D.

Asano isn’t insane. Ren knows this, despite what other people might think. It’s only The Lie.

The first time Ren meets Asano, he’s six years old, and they are competing for the title of Junior Japanese Spelling Champion. The other kids talk to each other, congratulate each other, test each other, run outside and play together in the breaks. Asano sits inside, alone, and works on a huge folder he’s brought with him. By the end of the competition, the folder is complete.

Ren doesn’t understand him, but he’s the sort of boy who loves to explore a challenge (he didn’t know quite how much of a challenge Asano would prove to be, back then, but it’s certainly enough to fulfil his insatiable curiosity for their time together). He tries talking to Asano, and is given only short, direct answers in return. When asked if he would like to play, Asano tilts his small, six-year-old head up, and says

“If I could play, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

That’s the end of that conversation. The competition finishes, Asano claiming first place with a solemn expression, and the last Ren sees of him is the back of his head as he drives away with his dad. Ren doesn’t like Asano’s dad. There’s something  _ off _ about him, and it 

makes 

Ren 

shiver.

Two years later, and Asano reappears in Ren’s school. He is eight, and sits at the front of the class, his small hand raising for every single question. He doesn’t talk to the others, doesn’t play, and never smiles. Ren recognises him instantly. There’s no way he could forget those large purple eyes boring into him, the twitch of his lips as he rejects him (it’s only far later on that he realises it was never a rejection at all: Asano didn’t understand playing, the same as Ren didn’t understand Asano). 

Ren talks to him. “Hey, Asano, right? We were in the Junior Japanese Spelling Competition a few years ago.”

Asano looks up from his work. He doesn’t have a bento in front of him. Ren assumes he must eat later during lunch (he doesn’t). “Sakakibara. You lost.”

Ren winces, laughing awkwardly. “Well, yeah, I was a runner up. Didn’t you get first place? You were crazy good at it!”

“I know.”

Silence. Ren’s friends call him over. He ruffles his hair (not yet the dramatic flick he later learns) and grins at Asano. “You wanna come play with us? We’re short one player for football.”

“If I could play, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

That’s the end of that conversation. Ren still doesn’t understand. He  _ can _ play! Asano could stand up and walk over and leave that stupid piece of homework (not homework) and he could play with them. But he doesn’t want to scare Asano off, so he leaves, joining his friends. They play football anyway, since Ren is so distracted watching Asano that he barely counts as a team member. Asano watches them too, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

They fall into a routine. Ren will approach Asano every lunch time, ask the question, and Asano will say

“If I could play, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

and Ren will leave. Sometimes he challenges him, arguing that Asano could just come and play, but those deep purple eyes just blink at him silently until he huffs and leaves.

A year passes, and without fail, the question has been asked and answered every single day. Ren’s irritation slips away, and before he realises it, he’s chatting animatedly before every question, even when Asano only responds in short abrupt sentences. Asano is his friend, he thinks. He can never tell what Asano thinks of him, but he suspects he likes him, because the boy always listens to his rants about obscure poetry.

They’re nine, and Asano gets a teacher fired.

It’s nothing at all, really, nothing that should have such an extreme reaction. The teacher marks Asano down a couple of marks, dropping his grade to second highest, with a note that says there’s ‘always room for improvement’. Ren can’t see Asano’s face, yet he shudders at the sudden drop in temperature. Some part of him is horrified as he watches Asano’s steady chipping away at the teacher’s sanity (Ren understands where he learned the method much later, watching Asano leave his father’s office with a tight jaw), tiny things that no one could blame him for, but things that drive her to  _ set fire to her own desk _ one day when Asano asks

“Can you please re-mark this test? I think you may have made a spelling mistake.”

but most of him is completely fascinated. Asano is no more than a nine year old boy, the quiet teacher’s pet of their year, the one who everyone would expect to run from any sign of trouble. This changes things. Ren is utterly convinced that if Asano wanted to, he could have led the teacher into early retirement without attracting one hint of attention (he could have, and does for another), but as it is, whispers follow him down the hall.

‘Did you hear? He fired Miss Yamamoto.’

‘She set fire to her desk because of him!’

‘That’s stupid, he’s only a kid.’

‘You should have seen her face when he passed her in the corridors.’

‘A lighter right to the pile of work! Yeah, I heard the whole class ran out and they were just staring at each other with the flaming desk in between them.’

‘Creepy, man!’

‘If I was a teacher, I’d stay out of his way...’

The teachers agree. Asano stays top of his year (until Junior High, but that’s another story) and Ren knows that’s the moment he became obsessed. 

“Did you get your test re-marked?”

Asano looks up at Ren as he sits next to him, his other friends carrying on to the field without him. “No.”

“Shame. Ours all got burned. That’s fine, though, I didn’t get a good mark. Mum would’ve been mad.”

“I could teach you.”

Ren stalls, freezing in the middle of reaching for his bento. “Sorry?”

“I could teach you. To get better grades.” Asano repeats, face as serious as ever.

Ren grins. “Really?!”

“Why would I offer if I wasn’t genuine?”

(He wasn’t, at first. Asano did things for Asano, and Asano only. In exchange for tutoring Ren, he would gain access to the more popular social groups, and from there, start building his empire. But Ren didn’t know Asano yet, didn’t know that his father had critiqued his distinct lack of minions the night before, and so remained blissfully under the impression that Asano genuinely liked him.)

“Yes! I’d love that!” Ren cheers, moving in for a hug, and then sliding skilfully into a fist pump at Asano’s alarmed expression. “Ok, when are we doing this? Your place or mine?”

“Yours.” Asano blurts out.

Ren raises an eyebrow. “... Okay? How about tonight?”

“Can’t. Martial arts training.” Asano frowns, nibbling on his lip. “Friday night?”

“Sounds good.” Ren nods, resuming his movement. “My mum can drive us there after school. You can meet my dog! He’s really cute, he’s called Jaws, but honestly he’s not that scary...”

It’s not what Ren would count as playing together, but they do enjoy their time. At least, Ren does, and at this point he’s assuming that if Asano wasn’t having fun, he’d make sure Ren wasn’t too. It’s no small bonus that he understands his maths homework now.

Asano seamlessly works his way into their friendship group, thanks to Ren’s constant invites, and within the year is exchanging his tutoring sessions for lessons from Ren on how to be a normal human. Smiling, laughing, talking about useless things; soon Asano is able to blend in like the silent nerd never existed.

Blending in has never been Asano’s goal (normal is never enough).

Three years later, they are on the cusp of Junior High School, and no longer is Ren the one dragging his weird new friend along to social events. Asano is the one organising, monitoring, and supplying almost every event, from the school’s prom night down to the Dungeons and Dragons meetings in the forest at night. Everyone in school knows his name. Everyone would drop to their knees and offer up their life to be friends with him. No one is anywhere near able to compete with him.

Ren is simultaneously thrilled and terrified that he’s Asano’s closest friend.

On the night before their first day at Kunugigaoka Junior High, Asano is at Ren’s house, both of them checking over each other’s transition work before they have to turn in. Asano’s is perfect, of course. This is more for Ren’s benefit, which is why Ren keeps a closer eye on Asano than usual. Asano does things for Asano, and Asano only.

Sure enough...

“My father is chairman of Kunugigaoka.”

“I know.” Ren sets down his pen, stretching out across the floor. “It’s so weird.”

“Weird?” Asano narrows his eyes down at him from the desk chair. Good posture, of course. “Your mother appears on our screens every morning for the news. I see her more than my own father, and I doubt that will change even in Junior High.”

“Yeah, yeah, but... he can watch you even in school now.” Ren scrunches up his nose. “Isn’t that just a bit creepy?”

Asano falls silent, folding his hands in his lap. Ah. Ren pushes himself up and shuffles over to be directly in front of Asano, looking up into his carefully blank face.

“You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared of that man.” Asano immediately counters, face souring. “He’s done enough to make me cautious, but I am not scared.”

“But you don’t want to have him as the chairman of your school.”

“Quite.”

A brief silence. Ren has become better at handling these since becoming Asano’s friend. Minion. Whatever he is.

“I wonder what would happen if I skipped town?” Asano gazes out of the window, his constant intensity fading away at his newest daydream (it’s the beginning of The Lie, and Ren never even sees the signs). “Packed my bags, and got on the fastest bullet train out, leaving before my father woke up.”

“You’d probably have the police out looking for you.” Ren shrugs. “Having him there can’t be all that bad, surely.”

(Oh, how wrong he is.)

“You haven’t lived with him, Sakakibara.” There’s...  _ something _ ... in Asano’s voice, something that makes Ren jolt to attention. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Asano, if he’s hurt you in some way, there’s people we can-“

“No.” Asano snaps back to him, eyes blazing once more. Ren shrinks away. “No. You don’t know, Sakakibara.”

More silence, Ren sweating under the brilliant glare of Asano’s irritation. It fades, gradually, until Asano is gazing out of the window once more.

“If I could get out of his house, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t still be living there.”

That’s the end of that conversation, and the start of a whole new ritual. Ren learns things about Asano he wishes he’d never had to, over their years in Kunugigaoka Junior High. The chairman is in every aspect of the school, so similar to Asano’s system, and Ren grows to understand what Asano means. Without being in Class A of Kunugigaoka, or living in the same house as him, no one could possibly ever know what the man is capable of.

Every week, something new happens. Asano is called into the office, and comes out with a crackling temper. A student gets moved down, and the chairman’s announcement is somehow aimed directly at Asano. There’s a sudden change of syllabus right as Asano has finished learning the old syllabus for the next year. Every time, Ren tries to talk to Asano about it, tries to make him see that he can’t live with a father like that. Asano always gives him a flat expression, and says

“If I could get out of his house, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t still be living there.”

and the man in the glass office high above their heads carries on tormenting his own son.

Three people are hand picked. Teppei Araki. Natsuhiko Koyama. Tomoya Seo. It is Ren’s job to gather intel on them through his social networks, and Asano’s job to sift through the intel and choose those most appropriate. He never explains his choices. Ren doesn’t feel he needs to, after their first meeting together, where every one of them simultaneously despises and adores one another. It’s a strong dynamic. Each are equals, with opposing personalities that manage to bring out the most extremes of each other, good or bad. Asano spends the next year grooming out the less desirable qualities to a manageable level, and then twists them so they make him look so much better. After all, when Seo is aggressively bullying weaker students, no one notices Asano subtly putting them down with well-placed words and strategic competitions.

Ren misses the closeness of their former years, but at least his growing feelings for Asano are hidden by a larger group. He is 14 going on 15, dating whichever pretty girl happens to swoon over him at the right moment, so of course he is going to notice Asano’s impeccable body more often. He’s not the only one. The two of them are still compared the most, now for their attractiveness. Asano usually wins, he knows, even though he’s dated more. Who could strike up the nerve to ask someone like Asano out? He certainly can’t (he never does).

Besides, homosexuality attracts strong views and conflicting debates, so he won’t risk anyone finding out. He himself has no issue with it. He knows Asano won’t (he doesn’t, in the end), either, but Asano does things for Asano, and conflicting views about one of the members of the Five Virtuosos won’t go down well. Ren could easily be thrown from the ranks like an unwanted rag doll, even after years together. He doesn’t blame Asano (he never blames Asano, for anything, especially not when-). Ren understands the only thing Asano feels anything about is his father, and so everything else comes second place.

“If I could get out of his house, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t be living there.”

One day, he won’t be (one day comes far sooner than he thinks). Ren can’t help but dread that day. Asano will have run his life’s course, achieved his ultimate goal, and then what use will he have for everything he’s built up? What use will he have for Ren?

Class 3-E. By now, Asano is ‘superhuman’. Not superhuman enough. Little by little, Ren watches his best friend and one true love crack and split apart from the stress of the year (he’s been breaking far longer than that, Ren just hadn’t seen). With every lost challenge, every chink in the system, Asano loses far more than just his pride. Ren sees Asano cry for the first time ever, that day when the exchange students are sent home in hospital beds (it’s not sympathy, Ren isn’t that deluded, he knows Asano cries because Asano knows that he doesn’t care, deep down). He hates E Class. He hates them, even though he’d promised himself not to get too caught up in the school system. He should hate the chairman, but by this point that man is a consistent evil (he doesn’t think he can hate the chairman any more than he does then - but he will). E class think they’re doing good, which is the worst thing about it, especially when they march up to Asano and demand he keeps his promise. Ren feels Asano’s utter humiliation and has to clench his fist to stop from simply attacking the cretins.

They don’t know. Akabane should know, having spent time in A class, but he was too busy getting into fights and flaunting his defiance of the system. So none of them know what the man is like, and none of them understand Asano like Ren does (like Ren thinks he does. In reality, he understands nothing).

They never see the slap.

Ren

can’t 

breathe.

Asano is laughing. It’s loud, unnaturally so, open and genuine in a way he has never laughed before. Ren gets nightmares from the sound of it, so gleeful and yet so, so pained and broken and lost and betrayed and hurt and- and- and-

Manic. Insane. Psychotic.

There’s The Lie. Ren sees it, all in the open, when he’s struggling to get Asano through the hallways to the nurse. He won’t stop laughing. Everyone has abandoned their results, their all-important final exam results, to stare in horror at their great leader cackling his way down the hallways, blood trickling from his cheek and his head and his elbow, where he hit the desk. Desks. Plural.

The Lie. Asano is not ok, but he’s fine. Ren knows Asano doesn’t feel things like normal people, so he knows even this deranged outburst is just another layer. It’s Asano’s ‘fuck you’ to the world, revenge for trying so hard to belong and still never being enough. The Lie. His last denial of who he is, the final defence he has left. Normal was not enough. Outsider was empty. Idol was too much. Insane... insane is wildly unpredictable, something to occupy time and space without the pressure of doing what is expected. Insane is freedom, in the only way Asano’s father will ever allow it.

Ren doesn’t blame him.

Asano skips classes after. He keeps up with the work, in his own time, but he’s breaking free. None of the teachers stop him, once he flashes his bandaged cheek and makes a remark about The Incident. No more subtle words. No more blending in. It’s reminiscent of Akabane, in some way, except no one else cares either. Asano is still Idol, in their eyes. Ren watches him, flinches at the too-wide smiles and unhinged laughs. He knows. He understands Asano, too late to save him. All he can do is watch the slow descent, as Asano saves E class from the press, delights in spilling every dirty secret from his father, and sets up a bonfire in his own garden to celebrate his father losing the job. Ren sees the exact moment the rest of the Virtuosos figure it out, seeing Asano dance around the flames barefoot, eyes blown open in pure joy.

It doesn’t take long.

Ren finds the tracker in Asano’s bag, courtesy of the ex-chairman. He discovers prescription medication carelessly thrown in the sink, ready to be flushed away. Pictures and videos trickle into online forums, despite Araki’s best attempts, and before the first day of Kunugigaoka High School has begun, the public deems Asano insane.

He’s not. He’s not. Ren knows, he  _ knows _ , he knows Asano understands what he’s doing. Asano catches him looking and winks, dances just out of reach, dips his fingers in boiling water just to prove a point. His father is taken down, and now Asano is destroying himself, and taking the last of his father’s will to live along with him. He’s exploring everything and anything he couldn’t before, experiencing life as a person without constraints. Asano knew from the start that there was never going to be a place in the world for who he truly is, so he has played the part of every figure he can, and is on his last adventure.

It breaks Ren’s heart.

“Do you know,” Asano sings, balancing along the edge of the rooftop as police try to talk him down, “Do you know that my father doesn’t even have a picture of me on his desk? It’s a kid from his old cram school who died. Suicide. You think he’ll have my picture there too when I jump?”

He doesn’t. The picture goes up anyway.

Asano is pulled from Kunugigaoka High School in his final year. Medical reasons. He stays at home, his father desperately trying to cure him, therapists and doctors and psychiatrists and researchers rotating in and out. Routines, medication, family therapy, personal therapy, any new or traditional ideas his father can get his hands on. None of it works, because of The Lie. He  _ isn’t _ insane.

Ren and the other Virtuosos visit when they can, even as their grades slip and they seek help too. Ren tries with therapy, he really does, but they never believe him when he says Asano isn’t insane. So he turns to counting down the days, writing out long equations after every one of Asano’s outbursts, working out how long he has left.

“If I could play, Sakakibara, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

Ren swallows, finally meeting Asano’s eyes. Purple, burning, boring into his skin. His body is thin, wrapped in bandages, a blank grin stretched wide over his face.

“I didn’t ask you if you could play.”

Asano laughs, light and breezy. “You did. You always do. Don’t you get it? It’s called a metaphor.”

“For what?”

“If I could play. If I could do anything, anything that anyone else is doing, if I could be normal and have nice things. I wouldn’t be sitting here. I wouldn’t be alone, I wouldn’t be trying so hard, I wouldn’t be so different.”

Ren rubs at his eyes, familiar tears of frustration and confusion welling up. “I don’t-“

“Ren!” Asano yells, making Ren jump. “Listen! If I could play, I wouldn’t be sitting here. If I could leave his house, I wouldn’t still be living here. If I could be what you want me to be, I wouldn’t be like this. I can’t stop sitting here, I can’t stop living here, I’m stuck!”

“You’re not!” Ren launches forward, grabbing Asano’s face and turning it towards him. Asano always hated touch. He can’t stop Ren, now, not tied down like this. “You can try! You don’t have to keep pretending like this, Asano. If you just open up, you can learn how to be yourself without pretending like this!”

“Gakushuu.” Asano breathes, staring into Ren’s face, expression solemn.

“What?” Ren frowns, drawing away slightly in his confusion. The changes are jarringly abrupt.

“Call me Gakushuu.”

He does. He knows, then, even if he chose to ignore it before, that he is truly too late. This is the end of the road, no matter how many times he wishes it wasn’t. The secrets spill out of him, a waterfall from his lips, everything he ever kept hidden. Not many have the luxury of knowing when they are having their very last conversation with someone. After, he thinks back on it, when he starts feeling like all the time he spent understanding Asa-... Gakushuu... was for nothing. It was all worth it, for him to know exactly when he was seeing Gakushuu for the last time.

The crush was barely anything, in the grand scheme of things. Gakushuu admits he found Ren attractive at some points. Later, Ren weeps for what could have been, then remembers all of what  _ had _ been, and thinks it isn’t so bad. Ren finds out, for the first and last time, Gakushuu’s truest thoughts about his life, and is unsurprised to find that he understands. Somewhere along the line, he became a little like Gakushuu. In late nights, he treasures these memories, the only time Gakushuu opened up without any inhibitions.

Asano Gakushuu died on January 2nd, his father following him on December 25th of the same year. Two birds with one stone, Gakushuu would think. Ren thinks it for him. A heart attack, and suicide. Only Gakushuu would be able to preempt a heart attack, get his goodbyes in. Ren wonders if he knew his father would follow him, or if he just hoped it. He wonders if he let his father say goodbye. He doubts it.

The papers and online forums draw it out to be a cover up, that his father didn’t want the world to find out Gakushuu had committed suicide and so declared it a heart attack. Evidently, they hadn’t counted on the man’s fragile state of mind.

Insane son, insane father. The Asano name becomes infamous. The fortune is inherited by some relative, who gives most of it away to mental health charities. The house remains empty for ten years, superstition and the remnants of the previous owners making it near impossible to sell. Kunugigaoka changes its name and mascot to escape the scandal. The old E class building is bought by E class themselves. Everything is wrapped up and left open ended at the same time, forgotten in favour of the newest celebrities.

Gakushuu will always be remembered as the insanely clever boy who just became the insane boy.

Gakushuu wasn’t insane. Ren knows this, despite what other people might think. It’s only The Lie.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, yes, there is my automatic response of 'Gakushuu's in this? Oh, great, let's kill him off at the end.'
> 
> (I just looked at the wiki page and at least one of the Five Virtuosos was picked in Middle School... whoops.)
> 
> Question time!
> 
> Who is your favourite ship in Assassination Classroom?
> 
> Gakushuu/Ren is probably my favourite, with Ren trying desperately to balance out Gakushuu's intense need for winning. Plus, there's no way Ren wasn't picked for his attractiveness. Look at all the others Gakushuu chose for the Five Virtuosos, then look at Ren. I mean... it's pretty obvious, right?
> 
> Gakushuu/Karma is also pretty adorable, though, especially in fics where Karma annoys the living hell out of Gakushuu, but Gakushuu just puts up with his bullshit, and Karma puts up with Gakushuu's unknowingly intense bullshit.


End file.
